Hogarth, didn't I see you last night at the ridotto with Lady Thornhill and her pretty daughter?" "Me!—no, Sir," stammered Hogarth, colouring. Then she reverted to the trousers. His instinct was in the direction of considering his daughters his absolute property, bound to obey him, his to give away or his to keep to be a comfort in his declining years just as he thought fit. "I am no murderer," replied Sheppard. " "Perhaps so," rejoined the stranger; "but I have others in reserve, not so generally known. You’ve got me.
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